


White Ferrari

by senseof_Hygge



Category: ONEUS (Band), ONEWE (Band)
Genre: Drabble, M/M, a little sad, unbetad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:40:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24299755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/senseof_Hygge/pseuds/senseof_Hygge
Summary: What hurts more than breaking up is never being together to begin with
Relationships: Jin Yonghoon/Kim Youngjo | Ravn
Comments: 13
Kudos: 24





	White Ferrari

What hurts more than breaking up is never being together to begin with. That something had the chance to blossom so beautifully from the beginning only to die midway through with no explanation. The type of feeling that gets caught between love and _love_ and gets smothered without being fully cultivated. Youngjo is too well aware of this and yet.

In the morning when he’s lacing up his shoes he tries not to think about the way his hands shook last night when his calls went to voicemail, one time, two times, three too many times. The deafening sound of the monotone dial when his words catch in his throat, halfway between _I miss you_ and _I shouldn’t be missing you_ . He hangs up before he ever utters a word. He’s groggy in the car on the way to practice but his mind is imbued with all the ways this could have gone _right_ and yet.

The mirrors fog with how long they practice, bringing with it much needed rest. While the rest of the members collapse almost right on the spot, Youngjo finds himself catching his breath in front of the mirror; he can see the heart strain clear on his face, but plays it off as if he’s admiring himself. Within the cacophony of his members’ beguiling boos, he can hear the unsteadiness of his heart, and chalks it up to practice. And yet.

The span of months pass in this manner, where long walks together and music played from tinny speakers decreases from almost nightly to a breath of a breath of a memory. If Youngjo didn’t have any photos of these on his phone, he too would have wondered whether that truly happened or not. He remembers the way their pinkies touch when they sit too close together, when they lean just a bit too far together when laughing, how the weight of Yonghoon’s hand feels against the small of his back. They had been so close for so long, just two people who could have been in love, could have said something, could have _been_ something. They had jokingly thrown around “i love you”s like it meant so little and at the same time, like it meant the world. Maybe it did, and yet.

Perhaps they just weren’t suited for each other, Youngjo tries to convince himself at some point. They had kissed once or twice. In between too loud laughter in too quiet nights, their mouths had found solace with each other, and had tasted of nothing but happiness. That their lips fit perfectly together was mere coincidence and not fate, Youngjo tells himself again. The feeling of a hand weighing on the back of his neck to pull him in for another kiss is a ghost of the past. That their late night lyric writing sessions were just passing hours between coworkers, not any other label of what they could have been. The nights pass by coldly and slowly, each thought he has of Yonghoon spills from heart to pen, from pen to paper, until it feels like he has nothing left to say, nothing left to give. And yet.

He channels his time into songs, but each line he writes circles back over and over to no one else but Yonghoon. Each track carries with it a suffocating emptiness, a sadness that can’t be fixed, a desolation that seems unmatched. Youngjo thinks this is perhaps what heartbreak feels like, even if nothing had really happened. And yet.

When they see each other again, they’re with their respective groups, bouncing off the walls with all their energy combined. Youngjo sits back and watches the chaos unfold around him, worryingly calm even in the face of someone he loves so much, even now. They exchange glances from across the room, soft and secretive in the same way they used to be, though somehow the feeling isn’t the same.

“Hi, hyung.”

It’s a love lost before it even began.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on twt [@mechanicharin](https://twitter.com/mechanicharin)  
> 


End file.
